HandMeDown
by MMB
Summary: A chain of events leads from one to the next.


Title - Hand-Me-Down  
Author - MMB   
Fandom - The Pretender  
Rating - PG-13 for language   
Category - humor   
Spoilers - More than likely, yes.   
Timeline - not long after Betrayal  
Keywords - YGIAGAM   
Summary - A chain of events leads from one to the next  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. Please don't kill me...  
  
  
Hand-Me-Down  
by MMB  
  
Saturday 9 AM  
  
You know, I don't know what it is about Mr. Raines and calling folks with real lives and families to come in to work on Saturdays, but this is REALLY starting to get on my nerves. I mean, how's a guy supposed to be decent father to his little girl if the resident ghoul of the Centre (I mean really - sunken eyes, no hair, teeth that look like they soak every night in tobacco juice...) keeps calling bright and early Saturday mornings demanding that I come in? Just what's the big deal anyway about HOW I collected the data for certain questionable security reports that Miss Parker had me do that showed that Lyle's ideas were full of sh... holes?  
  
I can see it in Deb's eyes that she's disappointed. We HAD been planning to go to the zoo and then spend the afternoon feeding the ducks at the park. She loves the zoo - especially the big cats. She has a 'thing' about tigers lately. Tony The Tiger sheets, National Geographic posters and pictures on her walls. What ever happened to the Tweety and Sylvester stuff I got her... Anyway, there we were, practically OUT THE DOOR when the phone rings, and Gaspy Geezer tells me that if I want to keep my job, I'll beeline it right now.  
  
I can't believe it! I've spent a half hour on the phone trying to get Deb over to one of her friends' houses for the day. You'd think getting to go over to a friend's on a Saturday would be a cinch, right? But NOOOOOoooo, wouldn't you know it that today is some sort of Big Day for the Girl Scouts (that Deb really didn't want to join) and all of her friends and their parents are off to Delaware City. Not a one of them is sticking around the house, and not a one of them wants to take Deb along as just another spectator. That doesn't leave me with a whole lot of choice.  
  
She's gonna kill me SO dead...  
  
"M..miss P..p...arker?"  
  
"Broots? You moron, don't you know it's Saturday?" I KNEW it, I am going to be SO dead on Monday...  
  
"Y...yes, ma'am. L...look, I'm s..sorry to call ya at home on a Satuday, but I'm in a real jam here. R...raines has called me into work this morning, a...and I can't find anybody to watch Debbie..."  
  
"What the hell? Do you think I'm a babysitter? Wake up and smell the Ovaltine, Scooby. Besides, I'm halfway out the door on my way to Dover anyway." Oh man! She's just GOTTA help me...  
  
"C...c'mon, Miss Parker... I'm desperate here. I've called just about everyone I know... all her friends... And if I don't get to the Centre soon, Raines will... I don't need Debbie to be an orphan..." I put on my best tone. "Pleeeeeeaaase, Miss Parker?"  
  
I hear this big Loooooooooooooooooooooooong sigh. I was hoping the crack about the orphan would get her - but I'd better not pull that string very often... "Oh, what the hell. The day's shot already; might as well screw it up proper. I'll be there in about ten minutes. Have. The. Kid. Ready. To. Go. Understand, Tonto?"  
  
Oh, you bet I understand, Miss P. "Y..yes, ma'am. Thank YOU!"  
  
"Yeah, sure..." and she hangs up on me. I may be toast on Monday, but at least Debbie has somebody I can trust keeping an eye on her today.  
  
So here I am, sitting (actually, I'm more pacing than sitting) and waiting for Miss Parker to get here rather than packing a picnic lunch for the park at the zoo. Boy, she wasn't happy to get my call - no sirree. I had to talk to Deb about how we'll go to the zoo next Saturday - or maybe even tomorrow, if Raines doesn't need to call me again - and how she needs to be on her Absolute Best Behavior today. I don't think Miss Parker was banking on having an eleven year-old tag-along on her trip into Dover, and I know Debbie wasn't banking on getting dragged around like spare baggage. Maybe it will be a shopping trip...  
  
Then again, the LAST time Miss Parker took Debbie shopping... No. I won't think of that.   
  
Oh, good. She's here. Maybe things will be OK after all. IF she doesn't bite my head off first, and then have Debbie for dessert, that is. Boy, she doesn't look happy...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Saturday 10 AM  
  
Christ! I just KNEW I should never have agreed to take care of Debbie that first time - or rescued her from Lyle when Broots ended up left out in the cold - now Scooby Do has me pegged as babysitter material. And I shoulda known the minute Dennis called to cancel our luncheon get-together that the day was going to tank, big-time. Damn! And I was so looking forward to Dennis.   
  
So now, instead of having this wonderful lunch and a nice not-quite-restful afternoon complete with hot tub and Jacuzzi with one of the hottest looking hunks I've seen this side of New York City in ages, I get to be Mommy for the day to the "The Chihuahua" again. God! I swear somebody upstairs must have it in for me... At least Broots could have tried to farm the kid out to one of her friends' parents, dontcha think? I don't care WHAT he said he tried...  
  
Well, at least he has the good sense to open the door for me long before I get to the porch and look nervous and concerned at the same time. Too bad I know that he's more concerned about Debbie than anything else, though.   
  
"You are going to owe me HUGE for this one, Broots!" If he didn't already have that figured out, I'm not going to miss a free-shot opportunity to remind him - that's for damned sure. "Don't you DARE start thinking you can just call me up anytime..."  
  
"I know, Miss Parker, I know!" I don't dare smile, because the poor slob looks like he's ready to lick my boots. Not that that's such a bad idea... Too bad he doesn't look more like... UGH!! God! What am I thinking! I must be getting desperate!   
  
"C'mon, Broots, I haven't got all day here..." I snap my fingers several times - sometimes it takes this to get that man to actually MOVE. Call the kid so we can get this show on the road. I want to be in Dover by noon... Oh, there she is, and she has that gun-shy look in her eyes again. Good. I'm not going to let her get under my skin like she did that one time. "C'mon, Debbie. I'm running late."  
  
I don't get it... Why is it that I always get choked up when I see Broots and Debbie together? I mean, he is SO maudlin, hugging her and asking her if she's OK with things... Thank God Daddy raised me to be a Parker, and beyond all that mushy lovey-dovey crap. Then the kid walks slowly and just a little shyly over to where I'm waiting at the bottom of the steps, and finally I can put my hand in the middle of her back and move her a little more quickly down the walk to my car. Oh geez, does Broots have a death wish? He needs to get his ass in gear and get on the road to the Centre, not stand there like an idiot waving 'bye-bye' to the kid.   
  
At least she knows how to fasten her own seatbelt. God, you'd think Broots did everything except feed her... And the day is almost half over already, and I'm nowhere NEAR Dover yet. Damn! It just struck me that there's no way I'm going to walk into Toby's for drinks before lunch with Little Miss Muffet here. Shit! I can't believe it - not only do I NOT get to spend a luscious day with a hunk, but I'm gonna have to do Denny's or a deli downtown. I REFUSE to do McDonald's - and if that's what she wants, she's gonna go hungry, I swear!  
  
At least it looks like the traffic is going to be light for a Saturday. I'll have to watch for cops, though - speeding cars stand out when there's not many cars in the first place. I love this drive, though.   
  
Oh, God! I KNEW I shoulda left the damned cell phone at home... "What!"  
  
"Parker, we've had a solid hit on Jarod. You need to get back to the office NOW." Crap. Its Lyle. Why can't he lose my cell number just ONCE in his life?? Can the day float any further down the sewer...  
  
"Damn, Lyle, I'm halfway to Dover already..."  
  
"Turn the car around, Parker, and get your ass back here. Boss' orders." His voice is too smooth, too confident. He's probably in Daddy's office making this call.  
  
"Alright! Alright! I'll be there as soon as I can!" I stab the disconnect button and toss the damned cell over my shoulder into the back seat, and then it occurs to me that I have a kid sitting next to me as I'm slowing the car down, looking for a place to flip a U. Oh Shit! I can't take her on a jaunt to nail Jarod.  
  
God, is there anything ELSE you can do to me to make me feel more like an idiot? "Debbie, do me a favor and grab the cell phone for me out of the back seat?" Why the hell couldn't I have just put it back in my pocket where it belongs... "Thank you." There are times the kid comes in handy. I punch some buttons from memory with my thumb.  
  
"Security." Good old Sam, I KNEW I could trust you to be there.  
  
"Sam. I need you to do something for me."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." I love it! There's something uniquely satisfying about a man who knows how to take orders.   
  
"Meet me at my place in about fifteen minutes. I want you to keep an eye on Debbie Broots for me until either I or Broots gets back."  
  
"Debbie Broots?" Is that hesitation I hear in your voice, Sam? Uh-oh... Maybe I shouldn't have given you such a bad time about losing those checker games after all.  
  
"Yeah. Just be there, and don't be late. I'll make it worth your while, trust me." Geez, Parker, you must be slipping if you have to resort to bribery! Ah well, if it gets me out of 'Mommy Duty' after all, I suppose I shouldn't complain too much...  
  
"Yes, ma'am." He disconnects the call and I put the phone in my pocket, like I should have before. I almost feel sorry for him. Better him than me, though...  
  
Now, to get turned around on this God-forsaken road...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Saturday 12 Noon  
  
Ya know, being a Centre sweeper may not be all that glamorous or high-profile, but it normally gives a person a certain reputation. Too bad all of that is lost on MY boss. She's one of the toughest of the tough there, God knows she WAS a sweeper at one time herself, so really doesn't need any of us doing more than watching her six - and a sweet-looking six it is! It's about all we goons can do to try not to drool all over ourselves while working with her. And God knows being on regular assignment in Miss Parker's back pocket gives a guy standing around this joint. But there are times that working directly for Miss Parker has its distinct drawbacks.  
  
Like now.  
  
She's going to drop The Kid on me again.   
  
I'm doomed.  
  
It's bad enough that Willy and Gar haven't stopped giving me a bad time about not being able to think my way out of a paper bag, but Miss Parker told those guys that I couldn't even win one game of checkers against that little eleven-year-old demon. I can hear it when they've been talking about it - why did it have to be ME to discover that snickers carry farther down Centre hallways than you might imagine?  
  
The guys know somethin's up - what is it, do I wear a neon sign around my neck saying "Chump Time"? Or does my face give it away that I feel like I'm being led off to the executioner?  
  
It ain't fair, I tell ya! I'm a top Centre sweeper - one of the best sharpshooters they've ever had on the payroll - not the frickin' Kiddie Patrol!  
  
It's a five minute drive from the Centre to Miss Parker's, and I'm not breakin' any speed limits, I tell ya. She wants me there in fifteen, there ain't no way in Hell I'm gonna be there one second earlier. I know I'll probably be getting the "Eyebrow of Death" by the time I pull into her drive... yup... and the hands on the hips routine too. I can see the steam rising from here. No sign of the kid, though - she must be in the house.   
  
"About time," she says. You'd think I was an hour late or somethin'.   
  
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry about that. I got here as fast as I could." Without breaking speed limits or running down the Centre halls, that is...  
  
"Debbie's inside. Just keep an eye on her and keep her entertained. Broots is at the Centre, in case you need to call him in an emergency." She's already climbing into her car. "I'll be back as soon as I can - and I'll let Broots know that Debbie's here with you, in case he gets finished first." She starts the engine and revs it. You'd think she was anxious to duck out. "Thanks, Sam. I owe you one."  
  
"Yes, ma'am. You do." Oooooo. She heard that. I see the eyebrow hit the ceiling while she throws the Boxter in gear. Good! I'm a sweeper, and a damned good one, not a frickin' babysitter - and I intend to help her remember that little fact from now on.   
  
Still, I gotta hand it to her, she's cool, our Miss P. She just flashes me that eyebrow and peels out, leaving half the rubber of her tires in the driveway.   
  
I see Debbie sitting on the couch as I come through the front door, waiting for me. Oh Lord! She's already got the damned checkerboard out and is looking all cute and innocent and excited and ready to go. I suppose I can postpone the inevitable by distracting her with lunch, huh? Then maybe about three, after losing three or four games, maybe with some snack?  
  
God, I'm glad I'm not doing shift work here. Nobody else needs to find out what a lousy checker player I am, like they did the last time!!  
  
Saturday 8 PM  
  
I don't believe it, but after eight games of checkers, lunch, snack and dinner, now Little Miss Genius is ready to pull out the big guns. Hell, I didn't even know Parker PLAYED chess, much less owned a set of chessmen - and why did that little brat have to notice that when she got out the board? This is going to be a slaughter - I can't even remember how the different men move!  
  
Why me, Lord?  
  
You know what, I do guns, wrestling. I leave the Brainiac stuff for nerds and geeks like her dad. And if it weren't that Miss Parker said I was to keep the kid entertained - where IS Miss Parker, anyway? - I'd tell her forget it. As a matter of fact, seeing as how the last three chess games were easy kills for her, I think I'm going to suggest she watch TV while I figure out what I'm gonna do if it starts to look like I'm stuck here on an overnighter.  
  
Oh crap. Wouldn't you know it, she likes the Discovery Channel. UGH!! That junk puts me to sleep. Give me some WWF or ESPN any day!! Who gives a flying fart about theories about Atlantis anywa.... ZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!  
  
Sunday 4:30 AM  
  
ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... Snort... Huh? What? Damn! Geez it's dark in here! Where the hell... OW! Who put that frickin' table there? There... Let there be light...  
  
Shit. Where's Debbie?  
  
My God, I've been asleep for six hours and the kid's gone - Miss Parker's gonna have my guts for garters if she ever finds THIS out! Never mind the snickers, she learns about my dropping off to sleep and I'm dead meat! Now where would an eleven-year-old be at four-thirty in the morning at Miss Parker's? Think, Sam - use your head for something besides holding your ears apart... Ah!! Guest room?   
  
Yup. Whew!!! Sure is cute when she's asleep...   
  
And Miss Parker's still not back. Of COURSE Miss Parker' not back yet, idiot - I'm still breathing air! She must have had to go quite a ways if she isn't back yet. Well, thank you, Jarod for being a globe-trotter. Shit! I'm thanking that... What am I THINKING?!?  
  
I sure hope she keeps her stuff in obvious places, because I need coffee, and I need it NOW. Ain't no way in HELL I'm gonna drop off again. At least the kid knew enough to put the game junk away before she hit the hay.  
  
Ah! Go-juice! Strong enough to melt stainless and hot enough to scald old ladies - just the way I like it. This oughta keep me going for a while, and at least the sun is starting to come up now. SURELY she won't leave me hangin' here for much longer...  
  
Well, wouldn't you know it, but the kid is up with the sun. Good thing Miss Parker was well-stocked with bread and butter and jelly - you'd think maybe she was human enough to... Cancel that thought, Sam.   
  
And I REALLY need to work on not talking to myself that way.  
  
OK. Maybe things will start to even out. She LIKES toast and jelly for breakfast, and even had a bit of my coffee. And getting her into the shower to get dressed wasn't so hard. Now all I have to do is...  
  
Uh-oh... Do I answer Miss Parker's phone, or don't I? I know, I'll let it hit the answering machine...  
  
"Sam, I know you're there." Lyle? Calling me here? "Pick up." What the hell...  
  
"Yes, sir. I'm here."  
  
"You're needed here. My sister said she had you posted doing Diaper Duty. Ditch the kid and get your ass back in here ASAP."  
  
Oh Christ, NOW what do I do? If I do what Lyle said and ditch the kid, Miss Parker will have a conniption fit - and if I don't, Lyle or Raines will have me for lunch, with Willy and Gar snickering all the way.  
  
"Uh... sir? Miss Parker told me I was to stay put until..." Pleeeeeease listen to reason...  
  
"I don't give a shit WHAT my sister told you. Get in here. Now."  
  
I hate it when people hang up on me like that. What am I saying - I hate Lyle on general principles, this just makes it official! Then again, Miss Parker does it all the time too. Must be SOP for the Centre brass... I wonder if they teach that in some Triumverate 101 class not offered to sweepers...   
  
Good heavens, what's that racket???  
  
"Geez! What's wrong, kid? You sound like a whole herd of fire trucks with their sirens running..."  
  
"I thought I'd try to do my hair like Miss Parker," the little brat explains, turning around to show me... Omigod! What's THAT on the back of your head?? "And I thought I'd use this round brush and make it curl under, but I got it sorta tangled 'cause my hair's longer than hers, and I couldn't see what I was doing..."   
  
I think I now understand where the word 'hairball' comes from. What in the HELL am I supposed to do NOW?!?! How in the HELL did she get it in there in the first place?   
  
Scissors? Nah... Shit. Then Broots would kill me.   
  
"THAT'S IT!! Grab your bags, kid. I gotta drop you off, and then head back in to work?"  
  
"Sam, aren't you going to help me...?" Oh God, not big tears out of those baby blues...  
  
"Trust me, kid. You'll get all the help you need in just a few, when we get where we're going." C'mon. Move it. Get your shit together and get in the car. We're outta here...  
  
I figure if he could handle Jarod back when, SURELY he can handle Debbie now...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sunday 8 AM  
  
I don't believe it! I do believe I'll have to circle the calendar.  
  
I'm actually having an uninterrupted weekend, free of the Centre, Miss Parker, Jarod... Yesterday, I was able to read through one whole issue of American Psychiatric Journal without being interrupted. Now a quiet morning with my bonsai and then a lovely afternoon at the poetry reading are just what the doctor ordered to make the weekend perfect. What a relief - there are no hasty flights to the other side of the continent, no huddling with Broots and Parker over clues. Jarod promised me a quiet weekend, and so far so goo...   
  
Sacré bleu! Who could possibly be ringing my doorbell at this early hour? What the hell is Sam doing here, and looking rushed, no less?  
  
"Sam? What's going on?" I look up the street, and see no Centre limos waiting at the curb. "Miss Parker didn't send you, did she?"  
  
"No, actually..." I see a small scurry of movement behind him, and I begin to get the picture as he reaches behind him and hauls out... "Look, you just GOTTA help me, doc. Take her off my hands for the day. Miss Parker dropped her on me yesterday afternoon, and now Mr. Lyle is demanding I come in to work today."  
  
Mon Dieu - it's Debbie Broots! "Where's her father? Why isn't she with him?" There must be something wrong for Broots not to be spending the weekend with her...  
  
Sam looks awfully tired when he shakes his head like that... "It's a REAL long story, doc, and I'd love to tell it to ya - but Mr. Lyle is chompin' at the bit for me to get back in, ya know? Broots got called in by Mr. Raines yesterday morning, and I ended up pinch-hitting. Now I've been called in. Can ya help me?"  
  
She really is a sweet looking little girl - a little disheveled, though, like maybe she got up on the wrong side of the bed and didn't get a chance to comb her hair or something. Oh, hell, she can maybe help me trim the bonsai - surely Broots will be coming for her before that poetry reading session this afternoon. "Just for the morning?"   
  
"Uh..." Uh-oh. I always get nervous when Sam starts to sound unsure of himself. He's too big to be unsure of himself - people can get hurt that way. "It MIGHT run later than that. Could be an all-day thing."   
  
"But I have plans for the afternoon, Sam - plans that I worked very hard to make sure wouldn't get tampered with."  
  
I do believe the man would get down on his knees and beg if he thought it would do him any good. "Oh, pleeeeeeeease, doc - you just can't say no. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place here - if I don't do what Miss Parker says, I'm toast; and if I don't do what Mr. Lyle says, I'm a dead man. You're the only person I have to turn to."  
  
The man has a point, and God knows I'VE sat in similar dilemmas from time to time. And she does look like a very sweet and intelligent child. Ah well, her welfare has GOT to come before my paltry poetry reading. I can always buy the book and read it out loud to myself, if I get that desperate. "Oh, very well then..."  
  
Sam at least has the good sense to look grateful - actually, he looks like I just lifted the Rock of Gibraltar from his shoulders. But then he frowns and asks, "Uh... by the way... How good are you with puzzles, doc?"  
  
What kind of a question is THAT at eight o'clock in the morning? "Fair, I suppose." Jacob always was the quicker to solve riddles and puzzles, but I wasn't THAT bad at it. "Why?"  
  
I start getting a veeerrrry bad feeling about this when Sam looks even more nervous and unsure than he did at first. "Because you should probably figure THIS one out before you do much else today, in case Miss Parker is the one who picks her up from you." He turns Debbie around and then waves at me. "See ya around, kiddo. I owe you one, doc. Thanks again..."  
  
Merde! How in the name of every angel in heaven did THIS happen? I hear the car door slam and the engine rev - and for the first time, I know what it means to be dumped on by a sweeper. And by Sam, no less! I would expect nothing less from Willy or Gar - they are Raines' ghouls after all - but Sam is supposed to be loyal to Miss Parker.   
  
I suppose if I want an explanation, I only have one option left. "Debbie? What happened here, cheri?"  
  
"I was just trying out Miss Parker's brush..." You mean that handle in the middle of that mess is Miss PARKER'S brush? Oh, no!! "...and I wanted to curl my hair under, like hers does, only my hair's longer and I couldn't see in the back, and it got kinda tangled..."   
  
Oh, I don't want to hear this... Right now, all I want to do is find a way to properly repay Sam for his 'kindness'. He doesn't owe me one, I owe HIM one - in spades, as the Americans say!! I wonder what Raines might have left in SL-27 that I could find of any use. Electroshock treatment comes to mind...   
  
Time enough for that later, and time enough for my poor bonsai later too, it seems. This is going to take FOREVER... C'est terrible!!  
  
Scissors? No, I don't think Broots would appreciate it.   
  
I didn't know the voice of a prepubescent human child had that vast a register - some of the sounds this girl has made I think have punctured an eardrum! How many times did she manage to get her hair wrapped around that brush before she couldn't move it anymore, two? Three? Mon Dieu, and the resolution is apparently almost worse than the dilemma, because now the child looks like she stuck her finger in a live electrical socket.   
  
Thank God Jarod wasn't a girl! Long hair is far too much work!  
  
Miss Parker will never know how hard I had to work for this damned brush, but I bet I catch hell for leaving all that blonde hair caught in it if it doesn't get cleaned carefully. I couldn't believe that it took an entire hour of pulling tiny strands of hair out carefully before there were so few left holding that damned thing close to her scalp. And, God forgive me, I was seriously thinking of taking scissors to those stubborn ones just to finish the job once and for all.   
  
Why she chose that moment to sneeze and double over in the process, I'll never know. Maybe she was reading my mind and reacted physically - we really haven't experimented with the human psyche in those situations as much as we... As it was, I think about a third of what I'd just extracted got tangled back on the brush again when the tangled mass of hair fell forward as she bent over to sneeze. It takes another fifteen minutes to unbury the brush to the point I COULD cut those remaining few hairs. And then another fifteen minutes helping her work the tangles out.   
  
At least the girl knew how to braid her own hair when it was finished, and I left it for her to clean her broken hair out of Miss Parker's brush. I told her I was going to let HER return the brush to Miss Parker too and explain how it was that she came to have possession of it. Perhaps the explosion to come will convince her not to play around in other lady's things...   
  
Mon Dieu, if I had to stay leaning forward towards her sitting in that chair any longer, I think my back would be permanently deformed! I figure I have just about enough time to water my bonsai and pinch just a few of the worst sprouts off and adjust a few wires before I have to make lunch for my guest.   
  
Where's Broots, anyway?  
  
"Whatcha doing, Sydney?"  
  
Oh. I suppose she WOULD follow me out here to the lath house after she finished with her hair and the brush... Ah well, what harm can come of that? "Taking care of my bonsai a little. Did you get all your hair out of Miss Parker's brush?"  
  
"Yup." I definitely hope so - Miss Parker isn't known for being forgiving when people tinker with her personal things. Then she moves a little closer. "Sydney, what's 'bonsai'?"  
  
Poor little parochial one. "Miniature trees. It's a Japanese art form I took up at university." Oh. I'll have to be careful when I step back - I almost trod on her toes that time. Of course, it would help if she didn't hang QUITE so close to me...  
  
"You mean those things are supposed to be TREES??"  
  
What do you mean, 'supposed to be'?   
  
"They tend to be stylized. It takes a great deal of training to make them look as if they had grown up that way like the large trees do." Master Yoshi told me I was doing so well - who is this petite enfante to question art?  
  
"But trees are supposed to be big. You know, I bet if you put them in bigger pots..."   
  
"They'd not be miniature anymore, then, would they?"   
  
"But..."   
  
Merde! I remember Jarod when he got like this - I think I nearly strangled him myself several times; I hope I can have similar forbearance now... Then again, I've heard tell that duct tape...   
  
What am I THINKING?!?! This is just a little girl... I'm getting too old for this...  
  
Where IS Broots anyway, damn it?   
  
"There are no 'but's about it. This is the way bonsai has been done for centuries, Debbie."   
  
"You mean these things are THAT old?"  
  
Give me strength!  
  
"Debbie..."  
  
"What about these wires...?"  
  
Mother of God, is she ALWAYS this inquisitive?  
  
"They're there to hold a branch in a particular way - especially when I want the branch to bend."  
  
"Why would you do THAT? Wouldn't you want straight branches?"  
  
No. I shall NOT strangle her.   
  
"Are all tree branches straight in Nature, Debbie?"  
  
"No." Ah. At least the little genius in pigtails here knows that much... "But you're not Nature, Sydney..."   
  
Where is that roll of duct tape...   
  
Oh, to hell with this! "C'mon. Let's go see what we can put together for an early lunch, shall we?"  
  
"OK." Deep breath, mon ami. Get a child thinking about food, and you can have a moment of peace. It always worked for Jarod.... But, "Can we play some checkers afterwards, maybe? I like checkers..."   
  
Uh-oh. I've heard about Debbie and her checkers games...  
  
No, Sam, I've decided electroshock therapy is too merciful for you. I think Chinese water torture would be MUCH more appropriate...  
  
"Do you play chess, cheri?"   
  
Why does that pretty little smile worry me?  
  
Sunday 1:30 PM  
  
What do you mean 'checkmate'?! AGAIN?!?!  
  
Mon Dieu, I must be slipping - I don't think even Jarod used to beat me quite THIS quickly or THAT badly. I wonder if this child has ever been tested for...  
  
What am I THINKING?! This is Broots' little girl - the further she stays away from...  
  
Now who could be calling me?   
  
"This is Sydney."  
  
"Syd." Miss Parker. Wouldn't you know it... "I just got back from Baltimore and Jarod's latest lair. I need you to come in and..."  
  
"I can't." No. Even IF that child has beat me three games straight, I REFUSE to drag her into the Centre with me.   
  
"Look, Syd. If it's about that poetry reading you've been drooling over all week, I hate to tell you this, but..."  
  
"I have Debbie. I don't want her anywhere near the Centre."  
  
Hmmmm... I think I surprised Miss Parker with that one. "YOU have Debbie?"  
  
"That's what I said..." What do you think, I'm lying?  
  
"But... I told Sam..."  
  
"I know." I know the whole story now. Debbie told me. Sometimes being with a chatterbox has its advantages. "Mr. Lyle called him in - I got the impression from Sam that he made it imperative that he do as he requested. I think Sam figured you'd be less angry with him if Debbie were left in my care."  
  
"He did, did he?" Sorry, Sam. Maybe you won't be needing me to administer that Chinese Water Torture after all. "Well, I still need you here. I guess there's no way around bringing her with you, Syd. Put on your driving beanie and make tracks, Pavlov."   
  
"Do you REALLY want her in that place, Parker?" I can't believe...  
  
"No, of course not!" She must be tired, she's not as snippy as she could be. "But you need to be here, now. Bring Debbie. I'll leave a message for Broots to meet us in the Sim Lab when Raines is finished with him."  
  
"Parker..."  
  
"Move it, Freud." I hate it when she just hangs up like that. I wonder if anybody ever taught her how rude it is?  
  
I wonder if I might be able to interest Debbie in taking some of those simplified psych profile questionaires I give to my child twins subjects while I'm busy with Parker...   
  
Non! If she actually has skill, and either Lyle or Raines finds out... Better she remain 'just' Broots' daughter. But what am I going to DO with her at the Centre??  
  
I wonder if Angelo plays checkers?...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sunday 2 PM  
  
My GOSH this weekend has been full of interesting things!  
  
Everything started out with Daddy wanting to take me to the zoo to do the tour, and then have a picnic. He loves the zoo; but I've seen that place four times now, and about the only thing worth looking at now are the tigers. They have a new cub and they're having a contest to see who can name it. I like tigers. But I get tired of walking around looking at the same animals, and it always smells funny - like a barn or something.   
  
I with that just once Dad would take me to the mall or something FUN. I mean, he took me to Paris and all a while back for my birthday - but that was AGES ago now.   
  
Then he got called into work, and I ended up with Miss Parker. She sure is neat - but she sure can be angry a lot. I don't think she wanted to have company when she went into Dover today, but the last time we were together we went shopping, and we had fun after she loosened up a bit. We didn't get a chance to do much, though, because she got that phone call in the car and had to turn around right away and come back to her house.   
  
She must have been REALLY mad to throw the cell phone into the back seat, just to have me dig around for it again right away. And that call she made must have been to Sam, because he came not long after we got back to her place. I REALLY like Sam - he may look big and mean, but he's always ready to play checkers with me and let me win. He makes good food too - not like Miss Parker and her fancy salads. He likes pizza and hot dogs and Chinese food delivered. And it was fun teaching him to play chess - he's such a good sport!  
  
He must have been REAL tired last night, though - it was just getting to the exciting part about Atlantis maybe being in the mountains of South America when I heard him start to snore. Poor guy. He missed the thing about the mummies afterwards too - I'll have to tape them for him so he can see them next time.  
  
Anyway I figured I'd be good and pick up the game board and pieces before I went to bed in Miss Parker's guest bedroom - where I slept over last time I stayed with her. I know she can be really picky about her things. So I didn't mess with anything to go to bed, just put on my PJs and got in. I love sleeping at Miss Parker's - she's so far out of town that you can't hear the traffic at all. I think there was an owl outside my window too - but it was too cold to get up and check.  
  
I just wish I hadn't tried that new hairdo with Miss Parker's brush. I know better, but MY brush doesn't get all tied up in the hair when I curl it under... At least I got all the hair out of it, just like Sydney asked me to.   
  
That was weird, Sam bringing me over to Sydney's. I don't think Sydney was expecting us - he got this really funny pinched look on his face, and then Sam was driving away.  
  
And I don't think I'll EVER let Sydney comb my hair again. It took him FOREVER to get Miss Parker's brush untangled, and he PULLED *H*A*R*D* to do it. Geez, you'd think he thought pulling hair didn't hurt or something, and when I yelped, he didn't stop. And then he CUT some hair to get the brush out in the end. I sure hope it doesn't show, or I'll kill him. Or have Daddy do it.  
  
Then he went outside, and when I came to find him, he showed me those dinky trees of his. Geez, you would think they were his pets or something, the way he was hovering over them and talking to himself when I came outside.   
  
Since when is keeping houseplants an 'art form'?   
  
Sunday 4 PM  
  
I'm starting to think that the rest of them all think that letting me win at games will keep me happy. At least Daddy wrote me those programs that don't treat me like a little kid. But I would have thought that Sydney would have at least wanted to win at chess once, I mean, he knew how the men moved, and had me cornered a couple of times.   
  
At least this Angelo can play checkers. Finally, someone who makes me THINK!! Its almost as if he can anticipate what I'm thinking. I wonder if he plays chess too...  
  
I may ask Daddy if I can visit with Angelo some other time. I like Angelo. He's a little strange, I mean, he IS a grown man and all, but he acts almost like a little kid like me. I know that Daddy often tells Miss Parker he can't come in to work on Saturdays, but I wouldn't mind coming into the Centre with Daddy on a weekend if I knew Angelo were here...  
  
OK. I lost, so I get to set the board up again. I think I'm going to have to go home and practice some more on the computer. Angelo's GOOD at checkers!! I think if Sydney hadn't interrupted him and dragged him off into the other room, he'd have beat me those other two times. Daddy came to talk to Sydney a little while ago, and I don't think he was very happy to see me there. I think he felt better, though, when he saw that I was with Angelo.  
  
I think whatever it was that had everybody busy is over now, because I see Daddy talking to Miss Parker...  
  
"I thought you were going to take her into Dover..." Gee, I never thought I'd hear him talk that way to Miss PARKER...  
  
"I was doing exactly that, Scooby, but Lyle called when we were halfway there and let me know Daddy wanted me to go after Jarod right then and there. I figured I could ask Sam to pinch-hit for me until I could get back..."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Daddy, don't get mad at her - she really DIDN'T want to go back... "Well, how did she end up with Syd, then?"  
  
"Sam brought her over to my house this morning, Broots." Uh-oh, Sydney has that pinched look on his face again. "He practically begged me to take care of her until Miss Parker returned, because Lyle had called HIM in to work. We... uh..." Oh, God, Sydney, pleeeeeease don't say anything about the hairbrush yet... "...had a few things to untangle, and then we worked a bit in the garden before lunch - and then Miss Parker called ME in. Everybody I would call on to help with Debbie was already here, so..."  
  
Wait a minute. Who's the guy with only one glove?  
  
"Alright, everybody. I know you're all tired from working the weekend, but we have all this junk from the latest..." Latest what, Mister? Don't stop... "Look. Go home and get some rest. We're going to be busy this next week. Go on - go home. Just be here bright and early tomorrow to get started, OK?"  
  
Who the heck does he think HE is? Doesn't he know Miss Parker's the boss around here? And why isn't Miss Parker telling him so?  
  
"You heard the man..." What? Miss Parker, don't let that guy boss you around... "Get a good night's rest, and be here early tomorrow."  
  
"Daddy..."  
  
"Not now, sweetheart. Get your backpack, and let's get out of here."  
  
Wait, Sydney, don't leave yet... "Goodnight Broots. Debbie..." But... I was hoping you'd help me explain to Miss Parker...  
  
"Yeah, Broots, take it easy and I'll see you tomorrow. See you later, Deb." Uh-oh, now SHE'S taking off.   
  
"Daddy, wait! I need to talk to M..."  
  
"Debbie, I told you to get your backpack. Don't make me tell you again."  
  
OK! OK! I got the backpack. But...  
  
"Say there!" Hey! It's Sam! Maybe he can... "Thanks again for the checkers games, kid. See ya next time."  
  
"Daddy..."  
  
"C'mon, Deb. Into the elevator. I'm tired and I just wanna get out of here."  
  
But Miss Parker's gonna kill me. She uses this brush everyday...  
  
"Daddy, can we please stop at Miss Parker's? I forgot something..."  
  
"Debbie, whatever it is, I can ask her for it tomorrow, OK? We're going to hit McDonald's for supper, and I'm going to bed - and you have school tomorrow, so you are too."  
  
"But Daddy..."  
  
"Debbie, enough. Get in the car."  
  
"...I gotta return Miss Parker's brush before she gets mad at me."  
  
I don't think he heard me. He looks like he's almost too tired to hear anything right now.  
  
I'm doomed. She's gonna kill me SO dead...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Monday 4:45 AM  
  
Geez Louise! Who in the blue blazes would be calling me at THIS hour?  
  
"Mmmmm... Hello?"  
  
"Broots, I need to have a word with you about Debbie and her new career in petty theft..."  
  
"Huh?" Miss Parker? Dang! Does the woman never sleep??  
  
"Uh... Miss P..parker? Do you know what time it..."  
  
"Can it, Scooby. My hairbrush is gone, and I'm damned sure Sam doesn't have it. That leaves Debbie."  
  
This has GOT to be a dream. That'll teach ME not to raid the fridge at midnight for dill pickles again. "Sure... Fine... I'll check it out after a bit..." Maybe if I just roll over... ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz...  
  
"BROOTS!!!!! Wake up! BROOTS!!!!"  
  
Snort! Huh? Geez, lady! I'm awake already! You don't have to yell...  
  
"OK! OK! What do you want me to do?"   
  
"Bring me my hairbrush, NOW, if you value your life. And make it snappy. I need it before I take a shower," and I hear this loud crash as she slams the phone down. God! She wakes me up before dawn to complain about a stupid hairbrush, and then has the...   
  
Wait a minute... Uh...  
  
"Debbie! Wake up!"   
  
"Mmmmmmmmmm?"  
  
"Where's Miss Parker's brush?" Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease tell me you don't have it...  
  
"In my backpack. That's what I was trying to tell you last night, Daddy..."  
  
Oh man!   
  
  
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com 


End file.
